


The Prophecy

by Emachinescat



Series: Hardy Potter [2]
Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Crossover, Friendship, Gen, Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-30
Updated: 2008-07-30
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Dark Schemes, Darker Secrets. Voldemort is back, and he is not happy. Especially since there is another prophecy concerning both Harry Potter and Joe Hardy. Meanwhile, the Hardys begin to discover their own magical powers and head to Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own, for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Enjoy. :)

A tall, shadowy figure made its way through the night. He was six feet tall, with long blonde hair and cold gray eyes. He wore a black cloak and robes, and carried a walking stick with the head of a serpent. But he did not need it. No, he hurried nimbly up the mountainside, never stopping to catch his breath.

He had a lot on his mind. Just that evening, that child, Harry Potter, had killed his master! Or so it would seem to anyone but Lord Voldemort's most trusted followers, and, although he hated to admit it, eventually, that old toad Albus Dumbledore would figure it out. But no, his master was not dead. Those fools that had "killed" him didn't realize that as long as those horcruxes, those parts of Voldemort's soul, which he had divided amongst several non-living objects.

Right now, he was on his way to a hidden cave, right outside of Hogsmeade, the wizard village. In fact, it was the very cave Sirius Black had stayed in during the harrowing Triwizard Tournament, so he could keep a closer eye on his godson, Harry, as he competed in the dangerous events.

But none of this even crossed the man's mind as he continued his journey. All he thought about was that Voldemort, suspecting something like that might happen, had told him where one of the largest horcruxes was. When he got there, he was to perform a spell on it. Voldemort was to rise, and together, they would kill Harry Potter.

But what about that pest, Fenton Hardy, and his brats? Especially the younger, Joe Hardy. Why, Voldemort hated him almost as much as Harry Potter, if not the same. He had been responsible for Voldemort's daughter's death, and the Dark Lord was not pleased. Recently, they had kidnapped the young man, and tortured him almost to death, but he had been rescued. He knew Voldemort would want to kill him as well.

His mind then wandered to the prophecy. Either Harry would kill Voldemort, or Voldemort was to kill Harry. But what about the other prophecy? He knew of another prophecy, just as important, just as fatal to the Dark Lord. And now, he was almost positive that Joe Hardy was the boy of that prophecy. That made the need to kill him even greater. He was sure Voldemort would agree.

His thoughts were cut off abruptly. He had reached the cave. He ruefully wished he could have used magic to reach his destination, but he knew the Ministry of Magic was monitoring all magic used, searching for Voldemort's remaining followers.

Entering the cave, he looked under a pile of rocks and found what he was looking for: a golden locket, the horcrux. He pulled out a wand, said an incantation, and stepped back.

A large cloud of black smoke erupted in the small cavern. A man stood in the place of the horcrux. He had no hair, with hideous red eyes, slits for nostrils, and thin lips curled into an angry scowl. His skin was the color of a skull, and his hands like spiders.

"Thank you, my servant," he hissed in a voice that would chill the devil. "Now, let us go to Bayport. We have unfinished business there…" Smirking, he began to laugh evilly. "Harry Potter and Joe Hardy will soon be mine!"


	2. St. Mungo's Hospital

_"No! Please no! Not again!" Joe Hardy's voice cut through the blackness as he lay on the floor, bound and trembling. His eyes were filled with unshed tears as, out of the oppressing darkness came the figure of nightmares. His skin was white, whiter than a skull, with evil red eyes that burned with malice and hatred. With slits for nostrils, and a lipless mouth curled into a twisted smile, this man was utterly terrifying._

_It was Lord Voldemort._

_He raised his wand, pointed it directly at Joe's heart, and—_

"NOOOOOOO!"

* * *

Joe Hardy shot up, sweating heavily and gasping for breath. Totally disoriented, he had no idea where he was or what he was doing there.

He instantly felt someone's hand on his chest, pushing him back down. "Shhh...Joe...it'll be okay...you're alright."

Taking a deep breath, Joe looked around him. He was in what looked like a hospital bed, his mother standing over him, a relieved expression on her face. "You're awake," she breathed.

"Where am I?" Joe muttered, beginning to calm down. "A hospital?"

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," Laura informed him, pushing a stray, sweaty lock of blonde hair out of his sapphire eyes.

"Magical Maladies?" Joe muttered, still disoriented. He tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but was far too weak. "What happened? The last thing I remember is those...things...pulling me closer to them." He shuddered.

"Honey, it's okay," Laura said, stroking his hair in a comforting manner. "Voldemort is dead. Remember?"

"Not really. I think I was kinda in and out the rest of the time. Did you say he was dead? How?"

"Harry Potter. And his friends, Hermione and Ron, and your brother. They defeated him."

Joe was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, so quietly, Laura could barely hear, "So...it's all true then?"

Laura looked startled. "What?"

"This... _magic_...stuff. Dad's really a wizard? And we really might have powers?"

Laura's eyes filled with tears. "Yes, Joe, it's true. All of it."

"Oh. I thought I might have been losing my mind for a while there."

"You're lucky you didn't."

"Huh?"

"Joe, Vol...Voldemort used 'crucio' on you more times than most people could have stood."

Joe shuddered, recalling the unbearable pain the curse had inflicted upon him. For the first time in his life, Joe Hardy had wanted to give up, to die. It had scared him.

"Joe? Joe, are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, go on."

Laura took a deep breath. "I used to know a wonderful family—the Longbottoms," she muttered, looking sad and forlorn. "They were so wonderful. There was Frank and Alice, both Aurors—dark wizard catchers—and their son, Neville. But Voldemort used that curse on them...countless times. They lost their minds. They're still here, you know. In this very hospital. They don't know their own family, let alone who they are...it's horrible. You were so close to having the same thing happen to you. It's so traumatic. That's one of the reasons you were brought here. The other was because of the Dementors—those black cloaked creatures. They almost performed the Kiss on you, Joe." Laura shuddered, and sobs racked her form.

"Mom? Mom, I'm okay, please. It's okay." Finally his mother was able to calm down. "Mom, what's the Kiss?"

"It's where they...they suck out your soul. Forever, you are still alive, but you have no soul, your body just sits there...useless...forever...it's so much worse than death!"

"What about my shoulder? Did they fix it?"

"What?"

"Remember? My shoulder. Frank," Joe paused then swallowed, remembering how Frank, under the curse of Voldemort, had stabbed him in the shoulder, then twisted the dagger brutally.

Laura hugged her youngest son around the neck. "They fixed it in an instant with magic. Joe, I want you to know...Frank feels horrible about what happened. He didn't know, and he is beating himself up about it."

"But it wasn't his fault," Joe protested. And although he knew this, Joe realized, in a deep, dark corner of his mind, that he would never be able to wipe the nightmare of his own brother, expression vacant, plunging a dagger into his shoulder.

"Could you...just let him know?"

Suddenly Joe was struck with the realization that he hadn't seen anyone other than his mother since he had regained consciousness. Not even a doctor.

"Mom? Where is everybody? Frank and Dad? The doctors?"

"Actually, here, they are called 'Healers'. And they will come if they see that you really need them, or if it is time for you to get checked out or to eat. They have their ways of knowing how their patients are."

"Oh. And Frank? Dad?"

"We're here. We were visiting the Longbottoms."

Joe swung his head around to see his brother enter the room, his father close at his heals. "Joe!" Fenton rushed forward and threw his arms around Joe's neck. "How are you, son?"

"He just woke up," Laura informed them.

"Joe, I'm so glad you are okay," Frank murmured, keeping his eyes trained on the floor.

"I know what's wrong," Joe said shortly. "And I don't blame you in the least. Sure, it wasn't the highlight of my day, but I know it wasn't your fault."

Finally Frank met his brother's eyes. "Really? Joe I'm sorry, so sorry," his brown eyes filled with tears.

"I told you, I don't blame you, bro."

Frank sighed in relief, and, guilt still biting at his heart, he embraced his younger brother.

* * *

The next day, Joe was feeling much better. Fenton and Laura had gone upstairs for tea, and Frank and Joe were alone in the room.

"The Healers say I can go home soon," Joe told Frank.

"Mmmm."

"Frank, that's a good thing."

"Mmmm."

"Frank, is something wrong?"

"Mmmm?"

"I said, is something wrong?"

"Oh. No, not really. Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Joe, can you believe what has happened to us over the past few days?"

"I know. But I thought—"

"Oh, I've come to accept it, trust me. It's just weird, that's all."

There was silence, which was broken by Laura and Fenton entering the room. "Hey, boys. Need some more company?"

"Please," Joe muttered, glaring at his brother. "Frank is boring on ice."

Laura chuckled. "Joe, you won't remember them, I'm sure, but Ron, Harry, and Hermione are here to see you."


	3. Egotistic Joseph

Joe looked very interested as three kids walked into the room, all about sixteen or seventeen years old. Two were boys, one with jet black hair, startling green eyes, round glasses, and a thin, lightening shaped scar on his forehead. The other was tall and gangly, with bright red hair, brown eyes, and wearing a maroon, knitted sweater with an "R" on it. The other was a girl, very pretty, Joe noted, with brown eyes, bushy brown hair, and slightly large front teeth. Joe tried to remember these strangers, as he knew Frank had mentioned them earlier, as had his parents, and how they, along with Frank and Chet, had defeated Voldemort, but he could not recall them one bit.

"Hello, Joseph," the girl said, smiling widely. "It's so great to finally meet you. I've heard and read so many wonderful things about you, and it truly is an honor." She turned to Frank, smiled, and said with a blush, "Hello, Frank." The room was silent for a moment, then her face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as she turned to Joe's parents. "Mr. and Mrs. Hardy, it's a pleasure as well," she murmured, then said to Joe, "I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger. I  _am_  pleased you are getting well."

Joe chuckled and glanced in the redhead's direction. "Is she always so talkative?" he asked, grinning. "Not that that's a bad thing," he added quickly in his defense.

"Oh, no offense taken," Hermione retorted, smirking. "And you seem as big-headed and egoistic as your brother said."

Laughter broke out in the room at Joe's appalled look. "Hey, that's not fair!" he complained. He looked at Frank. "Did you really say that about me?" Frank shrugged. "I mean, just because I am so devilishly handsome, and have an army of girls chasing me day and night…"

The dark headed boy laughed. "I'm Harry Potter," he introduced himself.

"Oh, right!" Joe was fully interested now. "You're that hero guy, right? Frank's told me a lot about you. Thanks a lot," he said sincerely as he shook Harry's hand. "I owe you my life, man."

Harry's ears turned red as he said, "It was nothing…I just…"

"Saved the day, mate," the red haired, freckled boy finished for him. "Ron Weasley, by the way. I…er…it's good to meet you, mate. And, um, I am pleased you're okay and all…"

Joe smiled. "Thanks. I'm just glad to be alive. Really, I owe you guys my life."

Frank snickered. "This hasn't been the first time I've had to save your life, little brother."

Joe made a face, but didn't argue. That was too true, he knew that for sure.

"So…everything's cool now, right?" Joe said seriously. "I mean…Voldemort's really gone? Dead? For real, this time, right?"

"Alas, things may not be as simple as that," said a low voice from the doorway. Joe jumped and looked to see that Albus Dumbledore was coming in, looking very grave. "It seems we have a big problem on our hands. Voldemort isn't dead, and never was. He's alive, and all powerful once more."

There was a stunned silence in the room at his words.

"How—?"

"I have a theory about that. But there is even worse news."

Laura paled. "What is it, Albus? It has something to do with our Joe, doesn't it?"

Dumbledore looked grim as he replied. "Yes, it does."

It was Joe's turn to pale, and it turned Frank's stomach to see a look of such terror he had never seen take over his brother's face. "You mean…he's after me again?" His voice came out, choked.

Aware of Joe's apprehension, and the reason behind it, yet well aware that he needed to know the danger that faced him, Dumbledore nodded. "I am afraid so. You and Harry."

"Why is he so keen on getting Joe?" Frank asked. "Other than…" he paused, not wanting to mention Iola in front of his already distraught brother.

Fenton sighed heavily and said, "There is another prophecy, boys. And I think it's time you know the truth."


	4. The Prophecy

The short, ugly man fidgeted nervously in the center of the cave. His small, beady eyes darted about as if searching for an avenue of escape, and his attention was focused on anything but the tall man standing before him.

"Wormtail, you are not listening to me…you know what happens to those who ignore my voice…"

Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail, as he was more commonly known, fell to his knees in front of his master. "Forgive me, Master," he whispered. "My mind was…away."

"Get up!" Lord Voldemort spat, staring at the heap of a man in front of him in disgust. His lipless mouth curled into a slight grin, and he said, "Do not worry yourself, my cowardly servant. All is not lost for you. I still have a need for your otherwise worthless self…" He paused, an odd gleam coming into his eyes. "The same goes for Harry Potter, and that miserable excuse for a detective, Joe Hardy…as soon as their usefulness has worn out, I shall kill them both, and Lord Voldemort shall once again rule the magical world…"

* * *

"The prophecy," Dumbledore began, clearing his throat slightly and straightening his partially lopsided wizard's hat with long, crooked fingers, "is as old as the prophecy concerning Harry. It was foretold not by Madame Trelawny, as was the first one, but by her niece, a true seer named Tiarta. Unfortunately, the young lady was killed by one of Voldemort's followers soon after she predicted it, and only a handful of people actually know of it."

"I had heard the prophecy all my life," Fenton muttered under his breath, "and I held onto it with every ounce of my being, waiting for someone, a great hero, to fulfill it…" he sighed. "I just…I never dreamed it was talking about my son." He put a hand on Joe's shoulder from beside the bed.

"Me?" Joe whispered. "What does this—what does any of this—have to do with me?"

Laura's eyes filled with tears. "Joe, just…just listen to Albus. He'll explain it to you."

Frank gripped his brother's hand tightly. "It'll be okay, brother," he said. "It can't be too bad."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, and began to recite:

"' _The boy who lived_  
His fate decided  
Either way,  
The end is sighted

 _If he lives,_  
Or if he dies  
Another comes  
Another tries

 _A god, a warrior_  
An outstanding force  
Someone with such power  
From an unknown source

 _A killer of the Dark One's spawn_  
A lover of the one that died  
A child who knows not  
Of the legacy he'll leave behind

 _For if he dies, the world is doomed_  
And if he lives, the world will prosper  
The Dark One knows that if the one who lived once dies  
There are still threats, and greater than others

 _But if the first one is killed_  
And the second untouched  
There is still chance  
Evil will rise up

 _For if he kills_  
The last one standing  
Evil rules forever  
Good is in the past, and never beginning

 _But if the last one conquers him_  
He will die  
His servants will vanish  
And the world is alright

 _But if both forces_  
Remain alive to fight  
And are put together  
It will be a worthy sight

 _Unbeatable, these powers be_  
The Dark One will not win  
If the two remain together  
Peace shall reign again'"

Silence. It was as if all sound had been erased from the present. Nothing could be heard, save for the sharp breaths taken in by those listening. Finally, as if afraid the quiet would take over, Ron whistled. Joe jumped in his bed, startled by the noise. "That was a long prophecy," Ron muttered.

"Aye, that it is," Dumbledore agreed. A faint trace of a smile could be seen on his ancient face. "You would not believe the amount of time it took this old mind to memorize it."

"What does it mean?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Oh, it's obvious, isn't it?" Hermione said impatiently. "The first part clearly states that the one who lived—Harry, of course—whether or not he succeeds in killing Voldemort or not, there will be another threat for him, which we assume is Joseph." She looked at Dumbledore, who nodded, and she went on. "The third stanza compares this new force—Joseph—to a god, saying he is a fearless warrior, but the source of all this power isn't really known. It's just…there."

Joe knew what was coming next, and he hated to hear it. Tears began to form in his eyes, but he hastily blinked them away, not wanting his visitors to see him cry. "Go on," he muttered, looking down at the blanket. Hermione looked doubtfully at Laura, who glanced at Fenton, who nodded in Dumbledore's direction. Dumbledore considered for a moment, then gave a fragment of a nod. "Go on," he echoed.

"The fourth part— _'A killer of the Dark One's spawn'—_ is referring to one of the reasons Voldemort wanted to keep Joseph rather than his brother. At first, we just thought that it was a mere grudge against Joseph for…erm…" Hermione hesitated, unsure of how to go about this touchy subject. Sometimes she wished she didn't have to be such a 'know-it-all' as Ron often suggested, and now was one of those moments. She hated being stuck in this situation, not knowing what to say.

"A grudge against me for killing his daughter." Joe's voice was quiet and reserved, and his face drawn up tight. A single tear had escaped, and was trailing down his cheek, sorrow in solid form, taking its path down…down…down. Frank watched, heart heavy, as the tear fell off his brother's chin and dropped onto the blanket, where it was lost forever. But oh, how he despised that single tear, an illustration of how tormented and guilt-ridden his brother was.

"No, Joe," Frank said, voice shaking in emotion. "You did not kill Iola. It was NOT your fault." He turned to his father. "The prophecy can't be talking about him, Dad."

"As much as I wish it wasn't, we know it is true. Every line in that prophecy points to Joe."

"So I am a killer."

Everyone turned to face Joe, whose face had grown quite pale in the past several seconds. "No, Joe—"

"Mom, don't. It's okay. I've accepted it. Go on, Hermione. Let's get this over with."

Hermione hesitated. "Sir…?" She glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded.

"As hard as it may be, this must be done. Joseph must know what he's up against."

"Wait a minute!" All eyes turned to Frank. "Why couldn't it have been that guy who was responsible for Iola's death? The one who actually planted the bomb?"

"First of all, he was pure evil, Frank," Joe said, a little harsher than he intended. Frank's face fell, and he said no more. Joe didn't bother to apologize for his rash tones.

"The main reason, Frank," said Hermione, "Is the second line in the stanza:  _'A lover of the one who died.'_ Joseph was obviously in love with Iola."

"Why don't we move on?" Laura was staring at her youngest son worriedly. He was slumped back on the pillows, pale and motionless, his blue eyes staring but not really seeing. She knew his mind must be far away.

"Oh…of course, Mrs. Hardy. I—I'm dreadfully sorry."

"I'll take it from here," Fenton said gently.

Hermione's face turned red. "Of course, Sir."

"Nothing to do with you, of course," Fenton said quickly. "I just wanted to explain the rest to Joe, if that's okay."

"Of course."

"The rest of the prophecy basically says that if Harry dies—which we hope with all of our being doesn't happen—that there's still a chance we can win this thing. But the fate of the magical world would then fall entirely on Joe's shoulders. If he kills Voldemort, then the magical community is saved. If not, he will…" he cleared his throat, "…well, you get my point, and the magical world will be doomed forever.

"Now, if they both live and fight together, side by side, there will be no stopping them."

"So, basically, what they're saying is—" Harry began—

"—that the fate of an entire world rests in our hands," Joe finished.

Frank leaned over Joe's shoulder. "I was wrong, little brother," he said, only half-joking. "I guess it really can be 'that bad'."

Joe said nothing, but merely sighed. Then, without warning, he let out a cry, put his hand to his head, and fell against the pillows in a dead faint.


	5. The Dream

Voldemort's snake-like pupils dialated in excitement. "It is working, Wormtail," he hissed maliciously. "Just as I was able to get into Harry Potter's head, so have I done to Joseph Hardy."

Peter Pettigrew nodded nervously, his nose twitching out of pure habit. "Master, why do this? Why get into his head?"

"Why?" Voldemort thundered. "You dare question Lord Voldemort's reasons…oh, my hideous friend…I have my reasons…all shall be revealed in time…" 

* * *

' _Hello, Joseph.' Joe looked around, not sure what was happening. All he could see was blackness._  

' _Who's there?' he demanded, a terror creeping into his soul._

' _I am a friend…do not be afraid.'_

' _I'm not afraid!' Joe quickly defended himself. His own voice was distant; foreign._

' _Of course you are,' the voice countered, slick and smooth. 'We all are frightened sometimes. Just because you are a detective…just because you are powerful…just because you are a wizard…does not make you invincible.'_

' _It doesn't matter what you say,' Joe hissed, trying to fend off the tremors that yearned to break his voice. 'This is a dream. You aren't real.'_

' _But of course I am. Joseph—or Joe, is it?'_

' _It's Joseph to you.'_

' _Of course. Don't worry. You'll learn to trust me in time.'_

' _Wait, who are you?'_

 _There was no answer. Suddenly, Joe felt himself returning to the real world…_  

* * *

A healer had come into the room and announced that Joe was perfectly fine; he had merely collapsed from fatigue. Joe had then told Frank, "I told you so, there was nothing to worry about…", but Frank wasn't so sure… Something wasn't quite right with his brother anymore…


	6. Monster Movie Marathon

Joe was so excited to be home again, he had completely forgotten about his strange dream. It was two days after his collapse at St. Mungo's, and the Healers had finally announced that Joe was ready to go home (his prescription was to eat lots of chocolate, to which Joe agreed to heartily).

Upon arriving home, Joe plopped down on the couch and sighed contentedly. "Wow, it sure is great to be home again," he commented.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were going to stay at the Hardy residence until Professor Dumbledore gave further orders, and they stood hesitantly in the living room, watching as Frank dropped down beside his brother on the sofa. Laura and Fenton smiled at the newcomers before heading into the kitchen to get some snacks. "Make yourselves at home," Laura said kindly.

"Yeah," Joe said, grinning. "You all saved my life. The least I can do is offer you a seat."

The five teens laughed, and as the three wizards took a seat, Frank patted his brother on the shoulder. "Now I know you're back to normal. You're back to your old lame jokes."

Joe smiled mockingly. "Thanks, Bro. You know, I love you too."

"Hey, wasn't that Monster Movie marathon supposed to come on today?" Joe questioned eagerly.

Frank stared at his younger brother, sure he hadn't heard him correctly. "What?"

"That Monster Movie Marathon that I wanted to watch. Remember, we heard about it a few weeks ago, right before all this stuff happened, and we were going to watch it?"

Frank shook his head, amazed that his brother could go through such a horrible ordeal and still remember the exact details of when a horror flick was going to come on.

"Hey, you guys ever seen 'House on Haunted Hill'?" Joe asked eagerly. "It's starting off the marathon. Followed by "Frankenstein', 'Dracula', 'Werewolves Unleashed', and ended with that new movie, 'The Curse of the Mummy'."

Ron looked completely taken aback, and Hermione looked undecided, but Harry was positively thrilled. "Oh, lets!" he said excitedly. "Dudley has all those movies at home, but I'm never allowed near a TV. In fact, I've barely watched anything my whole life."

"What's a move-E?" Ron asked, his red eyebrows furrowed.

"It's something you watch of television," Frank tried to explain to his wizard friend. Obviously Ron knew nothing about Muggles.

"Oh, right, Dad told me about 'velitision'," Ron said, grinning. "It's that big box you Muggles watch little people walk around in."

Joe had to fight back the urge to laugh. "Right, Ron. Little people. So we're game?"

"I suppose," Hermione said grudgingly.

It was an interesting ordeal. Joe was so pumped up about the movies that he was constantly talking to the TV ("Don't go in there, no, it's going to eat you! AWWW, why'd you go in there, you moron, I told you the flesh was going to be ripped off your bones!"). Frank was complaining about the cheesy special effects on the older movies ("That is  _so_  fake. Anyone with eyes can tell that that that monster is just some big-headed guy with screws taped to the sides of his neck."). Ron was oohing and aahing about the wonders of 'velitision' ("Wow, how do they get those people so small without a shrinking charm?"). Harry was babbling on about how the people in the movies had it easy compared to him ("Oh, what are they whining about? Have any of them ever been pierced by a two-foot poisonous Basilisk fang? I don't think so!") Hermione was the worst, however, discussing with no one in particular how amazing it was that Muggles had such naïve views on magical creatures ("Oh, I find it quite entertaining that they think a werewolf is so vicious that they EAT people. Honestly, anyone who knows anything about magic knows that they bite only to get more people to join them.") That is when Ron would turn around and hiss, "That's why they're called _Muggles_ , Hermione. They don't know anything about magic."

When the marathon was over, well past four o'clock, Fenton and Laura went into the living room to find all five kids sleeping soundly on the couch and armchairs. Laura went to wake them up, but Fenton put a hand on her arm. "Let them sleep," he said. "They can get settled in tomorrow."

Laura nodded and Fenton started upstairs. Before she followed her husband, Laura couldn't restrain from reaching out and stroking Joe's face lovingly. He was in greater danger than even he knew. And Laura couldn't imagine the effect it would have on their family if they lost him.

The thought was too horrible to consider.


	7. Letters

' _Joe Hardy…I had a feeling you would visit me again very soon.'_

_Joe stared into the blank abyss, wondering once more who was speaking to him. 'Who are you? What's going on?'_

' _You are a very cautious person, Joseph. I admire that in young people.'_

' _That still doesn't explain who you are or what you want with me.'_

' _True. But do not worry. I am most definitely your friend. And in time, you will learn to trust me as well.' There was a pause, and the voice said, 'You have a great mission at hand, do you not, Joseph?'_

_Joe sucked in his breath. Whoever this unseen person was, he knew about the prophecy. And Dumbledore had said that only a handful of wizards and witches knew the one concerning him. Who could this be?_

' _Perhaps. What do you know of it?'_

 _But there was silence._  

* * *

"Joe! Joe wake up!" 

Joe Hardy mumbled something incoherently under his breath as he felt someone shaking his shoulder gently. Finally, he roused enough strength to raise his head and crack open one eye. "Whattimeisit?" he mumbled, and he heard a sweet giggle. He saw Hermione Granger standing over him, a bright, chipper smile on her face.

"If I am to define what you just said as 'What time is it?', then my answer would be almost noon. However, it sounded so much more like 'Would you sit on me?', the answer, of course, being no."

Joe glared moodily at his new friend from his place on the couch. "Not funny," he grunted, then sat up and glanced around, stretching. "Where are the others?"

"Up in Frank's room. Your brother's trying to teach Ronald how to use the Internet. Harry and I are just enjoying the show. But Frank told me that you'd slept long enough, so I offered to wake you up."

Joe smirked. "Well, how very nice for you." He paused, as the dream he had came back to him. Who had been the mysterious stranger that seemed to know everything about Joe? The young man didn't trust him in the slightest, but he was curious to find out who his dream visitor was. He considered mentioning this to Hermione, who would know more about the meaning of dreams than himself, but held back. Maybe he was making too big of a deal over this. Maybe. 

* * *

That evening, in the middle of a dinner of hamburgers and fries—which Ron found absolutely fascinating—there was a soft knock on the Hardy's door. 

"I've got it!" Joe said, and sprang from his seat. A few minutes later, he came back into the kitchen, smiling, a twinkling-eyed Dumbledore on his heels. The old wizard smiled warmly at the family and friends.

"Albus," Fenton said, getting up to shake the wizard's hand. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon. Is anything wrong? Would you like a seat?"

"To answer both of your questions, no. Nothing more than usual is wrong, and I must not stay long, for I have important buisness to tend to elsewhere. However, I had to deliver something to Frank and Joe, and give them some very important news."

The brothers looked up, excited, as Dumbledore pulled conjured two cream-colored envelopes out of thin air, sealed with red wax that bore a foreign crest. Laura and Fenton Hardy glanced at each other, faces lit up with pride.

As Dumbledore handed the letters to the boys, Joe asked, "What's going on here?"

Beaming, Dumbledore responded, "It's time that you learn to use your powers. You are going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."


	8. Stupify

"What? We're going to Hogwarts?" Joe spat out, mouth hanging open.

Ron grinned. "This is too wicked!"

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, you both are. It is a rare occasion when two wizards of your age have not discovered their magic, let alone learned to use it. It is time you learn the way of the wand. You will be entering in as sixth years-the same as Harry, Ron, and Hermione-but you will need to learn many basic spells before you go to school. That is why you will have four-and occasionally five-teachers over the next few weeks of the summer holidays."

"Who are they to be, Professor?" Frank asked, excitement welling up inside of him.

"Your father, of course, will be one."

Fenton smiled modestly. "I don't know, Albus. It's been many years since I've picked up a wand..."

Dumbledore smiled and handed Fenton his own. "Please, my old friend, do show off your abilities," he said, smiling.

Fenton grinned.  _"Avis!"_ he said clearly, and several birds shot out of the end of the wand and flitted happily across the room and pecked on the window. With another flick of the wand, the window opened, the birds flew out, and it closed once more.

After handing the wand back to Dumbledore, Fenton said, "Alright, I suppose I could teach the boys a few tricks..."

Frank and Joe stood dumbfounded.

"Who are the other three...or four?" Joe wanted to know.

"I give Harry, Ron, and Hermione special permission to teach you," Dumbledore said, beaming. "As long as you three are teaching Frank and Joe, magic outside of school is permitted. I will deal with the Ministry of Magic when the time comes. I understand that Dumbledore's Army was quite successful last year."

Harry grinned and said, "Yes, Sir."

"Also, I've arranged for a good friend of mine, Remus Lupin, to stop by and teach you some spells every so often, and am trying to persuade Severus Snape."

Joe couldn't help but notice the disgusted look on Harry's face. "Who's Severus Snape?"

"The Potions Master," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Now, you boys need to learn everything you can. Another confrontation with the Dark Lord is surely not far away, and your magic needs to be very strong. First term starts in three weeks. You are also to be using your detective skills whilst at Hogwarts," he added, and the brothers' eyes lit up.

"You left that out," Joe said.

"We have heard from a very reliable source that some of the students-mainly Slytherins-know more about Voldemort's return than they are telling. You boys have stood up against terrorists before. Surely you can get some information," Fenton said, looking proudly at his sons.

"You got it," Frank said.

* * *

The next day, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Frank, and Joe stood behind the Hardy house, where Fenton had placed a charm shielding them from "muggle" eyes. "So what do we do first?" Joe asked excitedly. "Blow things up? Turn into animals? Knock each other out?"

"How about we start with 'get a wand'?" Harry said, amused.

"The wand chooses the wizard, you know," Hermione said knowingly, smiling at Frank. "However, the wands Dumbledore should suffice for now. He told Ollivander, the Wandmaker, everything he knew of you, and Ollivander gave him these." She took two wands, one long, skinny and dark brown; the other short, squat, and light from her robes. She held out the short, stumpy one to Frank. "This is yours. Seven inch, unicorn hair, birch tree. And you," she turned to Joe, "get the eleven inch, phoenix feather, maple."

"What are we going to start out with?" Frank asked.

"What about stunning?" Ron wanted to know. "That's pretty easy."

"Okay," Hermione said. "That is a good idea." She conjured several pillows from thin air and placed them in heap behind Joe, who eyed them warily.

"What're these for?"

"To help you not to hurt yourself when Frank stuns you, of course," Hermione said. "Once the spell hits you, you'll be out of it. Completely powerless. Then we'll revive you and you can do it to him."

Before Joe had a chance to respond, Hermione strode over to Frank. "You stand about ten feet away from Joe. Don't be nervous. Point your wand at him, really let the magic flow, and say  _stupify_."

Frank nodded. He raised his wand, pointed it at Joe's heart, and yelled, " _Stupify!"_  The spell hit Joe in the chest and he was thrown backwards, but didn't lose consciousness. He sat up, rubbing his butt and thanking Hermione for putting the pillows there."

"What happened?" Frank wanted to know, feeling angry at himself.

"Don't worry, mate," Harry said. "It's your first time. You did great. It takes a while."

"Now it's my turn!" Joe cheered. He and Frank switched places.  _"Stupify!"_ Joe roared, feeling a strange surge of power flow through his body. A flash of red light erupted from his wand and hit Frank square in the chest, knocking him into the pillows, unconscious.


	9. Professor Lupin

Joe stared at the unconscious form of his brother for a moment, then glanced nervously at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Please tell me that was supposed to happen," he said.

Hermione grinned. "You did it perfectly, Joseph."

Ron stared at the boy enviously. "It took me forever to get it right. How'd you manage so fast?"

"Don't feel so bad, Ron," Harry said consolingly, although he couldn't hide proud smile. "It took me two or three times to get it down perfectly."

" _I_ got it on my first try," Hermione boasted, but seeing the withering glance from Harry and Joe, blushed. "I suppose that wasn't the right time," she said. "But anyway, great job, Joe. Although ' _stupify'_ is one of the easiest and most basic spells to learn, it usually takes some practice."

At that moment, Laura Hardy came outside with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a pitcher of lemonade. "Hey, everyone. How's it going?" She saw Frank lying in a heap on top of the pillows. "Please tell me that was supposed to happen."

"Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Hardy," Hermione said quickly, "he's fine…Joe's quite a natural, I must say, but…in all the excitement, I guess I forgot to wake Frank up…"

She leaned over him, and, pointing her wand at his heart, muttered,  _"Enervate."_ Frank sat up groggily.

"What happened?"

"I just knocked you out—with  _magic_!" Joe cheered, helping his brother up.

Frank stood up and smiled slightly. "I'm proud, Joe—great job. Maybe I'll get it right soon."

"Oh, don't worry—I have no doubt that you will," Hermione said breathlessly. Frank smiled warmly at her and her face turned crimson. Ron's face turned an interesting shade of puce.

Harry, sensing the tension, said airily, "Oh, are those cookies?"

Ron's head snapped back to Mrs. Hardy. "Cookies?"

Everyone laughed.

 

* * *

Later that day, Remus Lupin appeared on the Hardy threshold. He was much different than Frank and Joe had expected—a ragged looking man with shaggy hair, pale skin, sunken in face, tattered robes, but a friendly smile—and everyone but them seemed know this strange man.

 

"Professor Lupin!" Harry exclaimed, hurrying forward to shake the man's hand. Ron and Hermione followed the suit.

Lupin grinned. "Well, Harry, it's great to see you, too, but technically, I'm not a professor anymore, since I left Hogwarts almost four years ago…"

"Remus, great to see you again," Fenton said, clapping the man on the back. "You remember my wife, Laura?"

"Of course. The most beautiful Muggle I've ever seen—that  _is_ a compliment, you know."

Frank smiled. This man may not look like much on the outside, but he seemed to possess a certain quality that made him a very likeable person. "And you must be Frank." Lupin shook the boy's hand vigorously. He turned to Joe. "Ah, this is the infamous Joe Hardy. Are you ready to fulfill the prophecy?"

Joe opened his mouth but nothing came out, at loss for words for the first time in his life. Lupin grinned. "Of course not—yet. But soon, very soon."

"What exactly will you be teaching us, Professor?" Frank wanted to know.

"A bit of preliminary DADA—Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nothing big—just some stuff that will help you be caught up when you begin Hogwarts. I deal a lot with dark creatures—grindylows, kappas, kelpies…boggarts, of course, also Dementors, I do have a rather impressive patronus, and believe me, I know more about werewolves than you could ever imagine."

"What about nargles?" Harry asked.

Lupin blinked. "What about what?"

"Never mind." Harry's face turned red.

Ron snickered. "You've been spending too much time with Looney Lovegood, mate," he grinned.

"Spending too much time with  _who_?" Joe asked.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione exchanged amused glances. "You're coming to Hogwarts in a few weeks," Harry reminded him. "You'll find out soon enough."

Frank turned his attention back to Lupin. "I know about werewolves and have confronted Dementors, so I know what they are. A kelpie lives in British and Irish waters, right? In mythology, it is a legendary creature that can shift shapes—the most common shape is a giant sea horse—that's where the story of the Loch Ness monster comes from. There are many stories, even in the non-magical world, that deal with the kelpie."

Lupin nodded, pleased. "Very good."

"But," Frank continued, "Grindylows, kappas, and boggarts, I have no idea what they are or what they do."

"That's why I'm here. Lord Voldemort had a wide range of Dark Creatures at his service when he was in power before, and I know that he will be recruiting them again. You must learn about your enemy so that you can defeat them."

"Makes sense," Joe said. "So what 'evil beastie' are we going to conquer first?"

Lupin waved his wand and a locked chest appeared in the middle of the living room floor. It rattled, and instantly the boys knew that there was something inside. "A boggart," Hermione said at once, and Lupin nodded.

"A boggart," he explained, "is a creature that feeds off of fear. No one knows their exact shape or appearance, because they always take the form of what the nearest person fears the most. There is only one thing that can ultimately defeat him and drive him back into hiding—laughter."

Joe was sure he had heard wrong. "Laughter?"

But Lupin merely nodded. "To defeat a boggart, you have to think of something funny happening to or about your fear. When the boggart is released, concentrate only on that, say _'Riddikulus'_ , and if you do it correctly, the boggart should shift its appearance to suit whatever funny thing you thought up. When you laugh, the boggart cannot stand it. He will return to hiding.

"So, Joe, you up to being first?"

Joe nodded, pulling out his wand. It seemed easy enough. But his perspective changed when the trunk was unlocked, and Lord Voldemort stepped out, a hideous sneer on his skull-white face.


	10. The Boggart

Everyone tensed as the Voldemort-boggart advanced on Joe, its red eyes glaring menacingly. Joe took a step back, his eyes wide and fearful. He racked his mind. What could possibly be funny about Voldemort, the man who had tortured him so brutally…plagued his nightmares…

It spoke. "You killed my daughter," it said, and Joe shook his head.

"No," he whispered. He took another step back. Raised his wand. Said, " _Rid—riddikulus!"_ Nothing happened. He couldn't do this. The fear was overwhelming; totally consuming. Voldemort reached out his skeletal hand and laughed in his terrifying, high-pitched voice. Joe closed his eyes, the fear was pounding down on him, full-force…

And then it was gone. Joe opened his eyes. Lupin had put himself between Joe and the boggart, and the Lord Voldemort specter had shifted into a full moon. Frank and Joe looked at the shiny silver orb, baffled, and then Lupin said,  _"Riddikulus!"_ The moon turned into a balloon, which deflated quickly, making a raspberry noise and flying around the room, air flying from the back. Everyone burst out laughing at the goofy noise, and the boggart landed back in the trunk, which Lupin closed and locked with magic.

Frank turned to his brother. "You alright, Joe?"

Joe nodded. "That wasn't as easy as I thought." He glanced back at Ron, Harry, and Hermione. They all looked a bit shook up themselves, but Ron was a sickening shade of green.

"Th—that was You-Know-Who!"

Joe glared at his feet. "Why couldn't I get it? I was just—paralyzed—with fear. I tried, but—"

Fenton, who had been watching the action with Laura, stepped forward and grasped his son's shoulder comfortingly. "Joe, listen to me. Voldemort is one of the worst things for the boggart to change into. It'll take some time. It's hard to imagine something funny about him."

"While you think about that, why don't we let Frank try?" Lupin suggested gently.

Joe nodded, and Frank took his place. Joe watched as top of the trunk was released. The next instant, he gasped as he saw an exact replica of himself lying on the floor in front of Frank, blood gushing from it, dead. Everyone was silent. Tears formed in Frank's eyes as he raised his wand and yelled, in a voice so strong he didn't know if it was really his, _"Riddikulus!"_ The dead Joe-boggart shifted, almost hesitantly, and suddenly Joe saw the replica of him turn into an imitation of what Frank claimed he looked like in the morning—the blood vanished, bed-head appeared, and he was in his boxers. The real Joe blushed deeply as everyone else burst into laughter and the boggart slunk back into its dark recluse.

He glared at his brother, who hadn't laughed at all. "Very funny, Frank. Only you could make something funny out of me being dead." Everything went quiet. Joe continued, "Especially something so stupid and embarrassing."

Frank cast his eyes downward, and Fenton stepped in. "Now, Joe, that's not really fair," he said.

Frank looked up. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't look at that image of you for another second. I just went with the first thought that came into my mind—I didn't want to embarrass you at all. I just wanted to get away from my worst fear—losing you."

Joe's frown lasted for a few seconds, then he smiled. "You have to admit, that morning look really brings out my eyes."

Everyone laughed, but things seemed a little more strained than they had before.

"Reminds me of my Mum," Ron said. "We had a boggart living in the kitchen cupboards a few weeks ago. She kept seeing dead Charlies, Bills, Freds, Georges, Ginnys, Percys, and even a dead me! Saw Dad a few times, too, I think."

Joe looked at him inquiringly and he said, "My brothers and sister."

Fenton grinned. "Your dad is Arthur Weasley, isn't he?"

Ron nodded, and Fenton laughed. "I know him—is he still fascinated with muggles?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Trust me, Mr. Hardy—my aunt and uncle, who hate anything to do with anything 'abnormal'—were scared to death when he started blabbering on about his 'ekletric plug' collection. And last time, he asked me the function of a rubber duck."

Fenton laughed again. "Good old Arthur. I remember Bill and Charlie—they were just little kids last I saw of them. Where are they nowadays?"

"Bill's working for Gringotts, the Wizard Bank, in Egypt, and Charlie's working with dragons in Romania," Ron informed them.

After a few more minutes of small talk, they got around to what they had subconsciously been avoiding. Joe finally cleared his throat and said, "I think I'm ready to try again."

Lupin looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Got your funny thought?"

Joe nodded, but his mouth was tight. "Yeah. I think so."

"Let's do it."

An unnatural hush took over the group as the lid flipped open and Lord Voldemort stepped out. Joe raised his wand, terror in his eyes, and said, as strongly as possible,  _"Riddikulus!"_

A surprised expression came onto Voldemort's face, and a second later, he was wearing bright make-up, and the boys' Aunt Gertrude's worst dress. He let out a high-pitched shriek and wailed in the voice of an overly fat woman, "Oh, don't look at me!"

Frank later swore that the house actually shook from all the laughter. The boggart dove back into the sanctuary of the trunk, and the lid closed behind it. Harry patted Joe on the back. "Good job, mate."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Kind of reminds me of—remember Neville's boggart?"

Professor Lupin chuckled. "Ah, yes. Professor Snape in his grandmother's dress and bird hat."

The doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Joe offered and sprang to the door. He came back seconds later with a black robed man with greasy black hair, a crooked nose, and beady black eyes.

Harry leaned to Ron and Hermione and whispered, "Speak of the devil."

Fenton strode forward, while Lupin, Harry, and Ron glared openly at the man. "Severus.

Albus said you might be coming."

Snape gave a curt nod. "Fenton. Remus Lupin. Hard to believe Professor Dumbledore would entrust something as important as educating the 'future savior of our world' to a werewolf."

Frank and Joe exchanged incredulous glances. Lupin glowered. "If you will remember, Severus, the Headmaster trusts me fully. It is hardly my fault that I was attacked as a child."

Snape's lip curled. "Hello, Potter."

Harry frowned at the man and muttered. "Hello, Snape."

" _Professor_ Snape, you ungrateful little—"

"So, shall we get on with Frank and Joe's potion lessons?" Laura stepped in, and Snape eyed her with almost a kind expression.

"Laura Hardy. You are looking more beautiful than ever!"

Harry edged between Frank and Joe and snickered. "I think Snape likes your mom," he commented.

"Sick! That slime ball's hitting on mom?" Joe hissed. Even Frank looked disgusted. Snape spun at that second.

"Joe Hardy, I presume." He looked the boy up and down and sneered, "I certainly hope you have the capacity to keep your mouth  _shut_ during lessons, unlike speaking about someone behind their back, and then being stupid enough to say it loud enough where said person can hear you."

Joe rolled his eyes but said nothing more. Frank stepped in and put what he hoped was his most charming smile on his face. "Hello, Professor. I'm Frank Hardy. I can't wait to learn from you."

Snape surveyed the boy for a moment before commenting, almost inaudibly. "Wonderful. Another Granger."

Hermione sniffed haughtily. Lupin took his wand and made the trunk disappear. "I'm sorry, Fenton, Laura, kids—I can't stay any longer. It really has been fun. I'll bring some grindylows next time, perhaps."

And he disapparated. Snape turned to the others and said, "I would like everyone to leave while I tutor these two," he said in his greasy voice.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Harry said quickly and, shooting Frank and Joe a sympathetic glance, darted into the kitchen. Hermione and Ron followed.

Fenton and Laura began to leave, but not before turning and saying, "Be good." Fenton turned his eyes to Joe and Snape, where they lingered for a moment. "All of you."


	11. The Hogwarts Express

Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled by the living room door, whispering amongst themselves. They had told Mr. and Mrs. Hardy that they were going to get some fresh air-but in reality, they were trying to see how the potion lesson was going. Hermione thought spying childish and inappropriate, but she tagged along so that she could "keep an eye on the boys". Harry had a feeling, however, that she was just as eager as they were to find out what was going on behind the closed doors.

They could hear the monotonous sound of Snape's voice, but could not understand what he was saying. Ron whispered, "Poor blokes. Snape already decided he didn't like them when he first saw them."

"That's because they'll be in our house," Harry guessed. "Slytherins hate anyone who is not in their house."

"Snape hates anyone,  _period_ ," Ron pointed out. "Besides Malfoy, that is. I wouldn't be a bit surprised to hear wedding bells in the future." He chuckled. "Mrs. Severus Malfoy. Or the other way around. Mrs. Draco Snape."

Hermione made an odd noise that sounded like a cross between a cough and her cat, Crookshanks, hacking up a particularly large hairball. Harry had a feeling that she was torn between trying to cover up a laugh-hence, the strangled cough-and snorting her disapproval-thus, the furball hacking. This sent the group into a fresh burst of giggles, and they heard soft movements from inside. Quickly, they rushed into the living room to rejoin their hosts, who had knowing smiles on their faces, but said nothing, and collapsed on the couch, hiccupping in laughter.

Two seconds later, Professor Snape strode into the room, his face blackened and normally greasy hair singed and standing on end. It was obvious he was trying to remain calm-and failing miserably. "For obvious reasons," he began, his teeth clenched, "I shall not be returning for a second lesson. I will see you and your friends at Hogwarts," he ended, glaring at the trio, who was doing everything in their power not to fall over laughing then and there.

After the front door had slammed shut, Frank and Joe walked into the room, Frank scowling at his younger brother, and making that same cough/cat with hairball noise that Hermione had made earlier. Joe was not trying to hide his laughter, he collapsed on the sofa next to Ron and howled, the other three teenagers joining him.

"Did-did you see his hair?" Ron grinned.

"No, his face," Harry added, "he was about to explode."

"No, I think he already did!" Ron put in.

Frank smiled a little and sat down next to his mother on the other couch, and watched as his brother, Harry, and Ron gasped with fits of hysterical giggles, while Hermione going red in the face and making that signature cough/hack noise. Finally, the laughing calmed down enough for Hermione to ask, "What happened?"

Frank actually laughed, while his mother and father watched on, torn between bewilderment, anger, and the urge to laugh along with the kids. "Basically," he grinned, "Joe sucks at potions."

"How was I supposed to know that mixing the green gunk with the blue gunk would make the stuff go BOOM?"

"Wow, I wonder," Frank said, pretending to be thinking very hard. "Now, I know the professor didn't say, 'If you mix the green Grindylow venom with the blue Werewolf spittle, it will cause a combustion that could kill a man.'!"

Joe frowned. "Oh. I thought he said-oh, forget it, I knew what he said, and I didn't mix a lot of it together, he's just a jerk! He'd just finished calling me a loud-mouthed, bad attitude, easily distracted brat!"

"But Joe, all those things are true," Frank said calmly, and they all laughed while his brother turned an interesting shade of puce.

Several weeks passed, and soon it was time for the Hardys to board the Hogwarts express. They were itching with excitement, Joe in particular, ready to take on the real wizarding world and start their full-scale investigation inside the walls of Hogwarts. They planned not to use magic with their sleuthing unless absolutely necessary-they still wanted to rely on their brains and instincts and capabilities more than anything.

They stood in their living room, bags in hand, full with the wizarding clothing, wands, cauldrons, books, potion ingredients, and sleuthing kits, but that had been bewitched to feel like they were no lighter than a feather, about to say goodbye to their parents and step into an unknown world.

"So how do we get to this Hogwarts?" Joe wanted to know.

"The Floo Network of course," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Mr. Weasley will apperate here in just a few minutes and make sure everyone gets to Platform 9 and 3/4 alright, and then we'll meet up with Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ginny, and get on the Hogwarts Express."

Joe smiled and nodded. "No idea what you just said," he said, a plastic grin on his handsome face. Frank just elbowed him in the ribs.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tall, thin man with flaming red hair that was receding just a bit, brown eyes, and spectacles appeared, beaming. He was wearing flowing green robes and a huge smile. Fenton immediately hurried forward to shake the man's hand.

"Arthur Weasley!" he smiled, shaking the man's hand furiously. Ron grinned and mumbled, "Hey, Dad," and then Fenton began with the introductions.

"Arthur, you remember my wife, Laura? You know Harry and Hermione of course, and these are my sons, Frank and Joe."

"Very nice to meet you indeed," the pleasant man said, then took a tentative step toward the family television. "Oh, a velitision!" he squealed, then looked at Fenton excitedly. "Those Muggles are so intriguing! I don't suppose, after all this hullabaloo is over with the Dark Lord...?"

"Feel free to come by anytime, and we can watch a football game," Fenton grinned.

"Oh, football!" Arthur squealed, "What a delight-Muggles do come up with the most wonderful things, don't you agree, Fenton?"

Fenton smiled. "But nothing beats a good 'ole Quidditch match, does it, Weasley?"

Joe turned to Harry. "Quidditch?"

"A wizarding sport," Frank supplied him. "I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Hermione grinned triumphantly at Ron and Harry. "See, I told you I wasn't the only one who read that book!"

"C'mon, kids, let's get a move on!" Arthur said. He used his wand to light a fire in the Hardys' fireplace, then sprinkled some green powder onto the flame. "Make sure you say your destination very clearly," he warned, then motioned Ron forward. "Ronald, you first."

The flame was not a towering emerald fire, and Frank and Joe took a step back. To their surprise, Ron walked right into the flame, pinched his eyes and nose shut, and yelled, "Platform 9 Station!"

He disappeared. Harry went next, then Hermione, and then Arthur shoved Frank forward. Joe watched as his brother yelled out their destination and was consumed in the green flames. Joe took a pinch of the Floo Powder from Mr. Weasley, waved good-bye to his parents, and stepped into the flame, which tickled his skin but did not burn. He did, however, shut his eyes as they began to burn, and yelled, "Platform 9 Station!"

He was spinning out of control, dizzy. He opened his eyes and could barely see the fireplaces as he continued to spin on to his destination-there! He saw the fireplace and the musky room beyond it. He was suddenly slammed forward and hit the stone floor. He heard excited voices and got up.

The others were waiting for him, and soon, Mr. Weasley appeared, having used apparition. He said they were in a convenient little room in the back of the Platform 9 Station that was made for all wizards apparating or coming by the Floo Network-it was enchanted with a charm that made muggles forget what they were doing as soon as they got near it, and made them wander off aimlessly to their unknown destination.

Frank came up to his brother and put an arm around his shoulder. "You okay, brother?"

Joe nodded, feeling queasy. "That was something I do NOT want to do again anytime soon."

Ron laughed. "You'll get used to it, mate."

Joe made a face.

They exited the room and were soon staring at the brick wall that stood between Platforms 9 and 10. Joe looked around. "I don't see any Platform nine and three quarters," he observed.

"Watch closely," Harry said, and he and Ron sidled up to the brick wall, then leaned against it. Frank and Joe weren't sure what happened; one minute they had been there, and the next they were gone.

"Did they just do what I think they did?" Frank asked Hermione, who blushed furiously and said, "Yes, you just go through the wall. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous."

Hermione did the same as Ron, and then Mr. Weasley, ushered the boys to the wall. "Nothing to worry about, you'll go right through. And they did. They ran at the wall, and next thing they knew, they were on Platform 9 3/4, and the Hogwarts Express was whistling merrily.

"Ohhhh-Harry, Ron, Hermione!" they heard a woman say, and turned to see who could only be Ron's mother hurrying towards them. She was a pleasant looking lady, with curly red hair, plump, and a motherly face. She embraced her son and friends, then turned to beam at Frank and Joe.

"Uh...hello," Joe said nervously, putting out his hand. But Molly Weasley wanted none of that. She pulled the two boys into a nearly back-breaking hug.

"Ohhhh...boys, so nice to meet you." She pulled back and eyed them. "You could use a little more meat on your bones," she told Frank. He was well-muscled, but thinner than his brother. "You make sure you eat some treacle pudding at the feast tonight."

Joe chuckled as his brother nodded. Three kids came up to them. They all had bright red hair, and brown eyes. Two were boys who were identical twins. The other was a girl, and very pretty, the boys observed. She was watching Harry with a slight blush to her cheeks.

"This is Ginny, Fred, and George," Mrs. Weasley introduced them, pointing at each of her children in turn.

The one she referred to as George, who looked to be about seventeen years old, grinned. "He's not Fred, I am," he protested.

The one referred to as Fred, but was really George, scolded his mother, "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother?"

Joe could see why she would mix them up-they were identical. But then the first one to speak grinned. "Only joking, I am Fred."

Joe laughed out loud. He had a feeling he'd like these guys. "Hey, mate," George-at least they thought it was George-said, a mischievous smile on his face. "You want a piece of gum?"

Joe was about to take it when Mrs. Weasley slapped his hand away. "Fred and George Weasley, you will NOT give these sweet boys your prank candy!"

"Prank candy?" Joe asked, looking more than a little interested.

"Weasly's Wizard Wheezes," Ron whispered in his ear. "We'll explain later."

There was a loud whistle. "Oh, it's time to get on board," Ginny said breathlessly. They said their good-byes and searched for an empty compartment on the train. After stowing their luggage above them, they settled in for a long ride.

Frank and Joe exchanged excited glances as the train began to move.

Ready or not, Hogwarts, here we come!


	12. New Friends, New Enemies

The Hogwarts Express was a wonderful way to travel, the boys decided. Of course, when it came to all their travels and the cases they'd solved, they'd ridden on many trains, but none were quite as fantastic as this. The train plowed along in a steady rhythm, seeming to float more than chug, without a bump or jolt. Frank and Joe were feeling a bit nervous, for although they could tackle the mystery and danger without a second thought, they had a feeling that they might be out of place, not knowing much about the wizard world, and being American. However, they had a job to do, and there was no way they were going to shy away from it. The boys had only been in their compartment with Harry, Ron, and Hermione for a few minutes when the door slid open and three boys walked in, grinning from ear to ear, talking and laughing happily.

"Oi, Harry!" the chubby one toting a wiggling toad grinned. "Have a nice summer?"

"It was...interesting, Neville."

"Who are the new blokes?" the taller, skinnier boy with brown hair and freckles asked.

"This is Frank and Joe Hardy," Hermione introduced them. "They were transferred here from a wizarding school in America. Guys, this is Seamus Finnagin, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom."

The boys exchanged greetings, sat down, and the group began to converse. "The states, huh?" Dean said, whistling. "Mite of a bit away from London, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Joe said distractedly. He was busy watching Neville struggle to keep his toad from scampering away.

"So, who's the new DADA teacher this year, I wonder?" Ron said to no one in particular.

"I heard it's going to be a vampire," Neville said fearfully.

"There's no way," Frank said.

"Frank's right," Hermione answered. "It would be dangerous and unethical."

"Dumbledore hired Lupin, remember?" Ron snapped.

"What about Lupin?" Joe asked.

"Didn't you hear, Mate?" Seamus said, eyes wide. "Bloke's a werewolf."

"Better than being a nargle," came a soft, dreamy voice from the compartment door. The Hardys looked up to see a pretty, blonde girl with misty gray eyes and a faraway smile standing there. She wasn't wearing any shoes.

"What's a nargle?" Joe wanted to know.

"Frank, Joe, this is Looney-er, I mean, Luna Lovegood," Ron supplied helpfully, blushing crimson.

"Hi, I'm Joe Hardy," Joe introduced himself, extending his hand. Instead of taking it, Luna stared at him eerily and remarked, "You have a dangerous aura about you, Joseph. Are you ever attacked by Flipsos?"

"Uhhh...what?"

"My dad writes for the newspaper  _The Quibbler_ ," Luna went on, unphased by Frank's question.

Frank exchanged looks with Hermione, who shrugged. Joe ventured, "Where are your shoes, Luna?"

"I don't know," the girl replied slowly, a dazed look on her face. "The gargles probably took them, but I suspect they'll turn out soon. They always do."

"Errr...do you lose your shoes often?" Frank wanted to know.

"Increasingly...today," Luna replied, then spun around and almost floated out of the compartment.

"Well, that was weird," Joe said.

"Not as out there as usual," Harry admitted.

"So...you're friends are pretty...interesting," Joe said, eyeing Neville's pudgy bottom stuck out from under the seat as he searched for his toad, who he had learned was named Trevor.

"Wait until you meet Hagrid," Ron grinned.

"Uh-oh," Neville breathed as the compartment swung open again. "Here comes trouble."

"Just remembered, we have to uh...go to the Snack Trolley," Dean invented as the three boys slipped past the other boys in the doorway, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione, Frank, and Joe alone with them.

The three boys, two big, beefy, and stupid, and the other, who seemed to be the leader, with sleek blonde hair and cruel gray eyes entered the compartment. Joe took one look at the middle boy's eyes and was instantly transported back in time...

_Lucius Malfoy stood over Joe's bound form and hissed, "How dare you try and escape? I'll show you what it means to feel pain..." He muttered some words, and Joe fell into darkness with a horrible racking of pain..._

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry snapped.

Draco Malfoy, the only son of Lucius Malfoy, sneered at the group, then his eyes narrowed when he saw Frank and Joe. His icy gaze lingered on Joe. He laughed hollowly. "Father said you might come around and start poking your nose into things," he taunted. "Dumbledore, the old coot, is so predictable. Won't do you any good." He paused. "Joe, right? How's your little girlfriend doing? Oh, yeah, I forgot...she's dead...you killed her..."

Joe growled and lunged for Malfoy, murder in his eyes.


	13. Professor Parasite

Frank and Harry jumped up and grabbed the hem of Joe's jacket and pulled him back before he could slug Malfoy. Hermione and Ron were on their feet in an instant, flushing furiously. "Malfoy, you're a right foul git, you know that?" Ron huffed, fire in his eyes.

"Oh, no," Malfoy pretended to cower. "A blood traitor and a Mudblood. Whatever shall I do?"

"You little cockroach!" Hermione growled, then turned to where Harry, Frank, and Joe were still standing. "Joe, are you okay?"

"It's not me you should be worried about," Joe muttered.

"Malfoy, get out of our compartment—NOW!" Harry ordered, glowering.

The two buff guys took a few steps forward, grins on their faces. "Hardys, meet Crabbe and Goyle. They're good friends of mine."

"No, they're your bodyguards, by the looks of it," Frank shot off, coming to his brother's defense.

"Yeah, 'cuz you're to wimpy to risk anything alone," Joe cut in.

Crabbe pulled back a burly, salami sized fist, and was about to hammer it into Frank's face when a hand rested on his shoulder. He turned around to see a tall, robed man hovering over him. The man had black, flashing eyes, pale skin, and sleek ebony hair. "Excuze me," he said with an unusual accent. "I hope zat you vere not planning on 'arming zees boy. Ozzerwize, you vill be in a vorld of trouble."

"Who are you?" Malfoy spat, a twinge of uncertainty in his eyes.

"I am zee new Defenze Againzt zee Dark Artz teacher…you may call me Proffezzor Parazite. I come from Romania to teach your 'Ogvartz."

Malfoy leaned over, his eyes wide, and whispered something to his cronies, who vaulted out of the compartment. Professor Parasite walked into the compartment, followed by Neville, Seamus, and Dean.

"We figured Malfoy was here to stir up some trouble," Seamus said airily. "So we wanted to get him in trouble. You blokes okay?"

"He hit the wrong nerve," Joe growled.

"Excuze me, but I need to zpeak to zeeze five alone," Professor Parasite insisted, fixing the three newcomers with a pointed stare.

Neville, Dean, and Seamus looked to be grateful to be out of the professor's presence, and they gladly scooted out of the compartment.

"You are a vampire," Hermione stated once the three were gone.

"And you are a very zmart child," the professor went on. "Frank, Joe, are you okay?"

"How do you know our names?" Frank asked suspiciously.

Making sure he was not overheard, Professor Parasite grinned. "Boys, it's me. Fenton. Dad."

They recognized their father's voice at once, and were overjoyed. "What are you doing here?" Joe asked. "And how did you turn into Creepy Vampire Dude?"

"You'll be surprised what a good disguise and some magical makeovers will do to one's appearance and voice," Fenton grinned. "But I'm here to do some undercover work, and to watch over you boys. Like it or not."

"We can handle ourselves," Joe objected.

"Dumbledore'z orderz," Fenton put back on his vampire accent and straightened up. "No one must know zee truth, only you zree and Dumbledore. Tell no one. Now, my new pupilz, I muzt get back to my compartment, where I am 'aving a very interezting converzation vith Fred and George Veazly about Loony—erm, Luna'z gnarglez."

Hermione shook her head. "I like your dad. It's great he's here to protect you."

"But it kinda makes you uneasy, doesn't it?" Harry said, grimacing.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

Frank and Joe had already caught on. "It means if Dad's here, we're in more danger than we thought."

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...


End file.
